


USS Paragon

by clokkerfoot



Category: Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Star Trek, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Space, Alternate Universe - Star Trek, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 10:52:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,970
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10385022
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/clokkerfoot/pseuds/clokkerfoot
Summary: Twenty years after Voyager returned to Earth, Captain Steve Rogers is given a three-year command of the USS Paragon and heads out into the depths of unexplored space to carry on the work Admiral Janeway left unfinished.





	1. Introduction

**Author's Note:**

> So it's been five months since I last posted any fanfic because university has completely drained me of my creativity, but I wanted to get something up. So here, let's do a bit of this... let me know if you like it, feedback is the best motivator <3

When Steve Rogers was five years old, the  _ Voyager _ returned home from its seven year mission into deep space. Steve couldn't remember the fraught early days when  _ Voyager _ was newly lost—after all, he hadn’t even been born—but he was visiting relatives in San Francisco when the starship flew down amidst bright fireworks and cheers of celebration, and the delight of that scene alone gave him enough motivation to last a lifetime. Going forward, Starfleet was the only goal Steve ever had in mind.

But the  _ Voyager _ brought more than just motivation into Steve’s life. The Intrepid-class starships were still in active production when  _ Voyager _ returned, and continued to be developed and increased in functionality while Steve worked his way towards and through Starfleet. His first commission was aboard an Intrepid-class, as was his second and his third. Every instance of his Starfleet career had been shadowed by those starships, and he expected his first command, at the age of thirty, to be no different. It had taken him a long time, most of his life so far, but it had all been worth it. 

When he was finally transported up to an old Intrepid-class named  _ Paragon _ , the day after his thirtieth birthday, it felt like he was coming home.


	2. Boldly Going (Leaving Drydock)

“Engineering and the dock has cleared us for warp, Captain. Whenever you’re ready, sir,” the chief helmsman, Lieutenant Commander Danvers, said from the conn. She was only a few meters in front of Steve, but his vision and hearing were oddly tunnelled with nerves and she sounded distant. He nodded his understanding, even though her words had been muffled and hadn't quite registered.

He nervously buried the tips of his fingers deep into the arms of his chair, clutching at the fabric. In only a few moments,  _ Paragon _ would leave dock and embark on its longest mission yet; a three year mission into deep space. There was no objective aside from exploration, and they weren't due to stop at a space-station until they hit the sixteen month mark. It would be difficult for everyone aboard, all 168 of the full crew roster, Steve included. The  _ Paragon _ was quite an old ship, and she would likely need repairs throughout. All things considered, it was a really rough first captaincy for Steve. 

Even so… he took in a deep breath. He looked over to the occupied chair beside him, where Carter, his XO and undoubtedly his right-hand woman, was sat. She gave him a reassuring smile, and nodded towards the front of the bridge where Danvers was waiting. Steve tore his gaze away from Carter’s lips, which were today coated in a deep red uniform-violating lipstick, and looked forward at Danvers. She, too, smiled at him. 

“Set a course, Lieutenant,” Steve said, as loudly and confidently as he could. He knew that Carter would be projecting this to the entire ship, so that everyone was aware of their departure, and he tried his best to sound more confident than he felt. “Engage when ready.”

With no less pizzazz than Steve was expecting,  _ Paragon _ lurched forward on thrusters and propelled herself forward into the vast expanse of space before engaging warp. The viewer instantly filled with streaks of white light as they built up to warp six and settled into their routine cruise speed. 

“Cruising speed set, Captain,” Danvers said. She tapped something out on the conn, then swivelled her chair around to face Steve and Carter. While her attitude seemed relaxed, she was sat quite formally and straight-backed, still wanting to keep formalities in order while on the bridge. “Gamma shift is due to start in fifty minutes, but I'm sure no one would mind if you took some time to yourself sooner than that.”

“Thank you,” Steve replied, filled with a sudden fondness for Danvers. The ship functioned round the clock, but the crew worked eight-hour shifts in rotation throughout the day and night to keep morale up and give everyone time to relax. Alpha shift ran from 0000 til 0800, Beta shift from 0800 til 1600, and Gamma shift from 1600 til 0000.  _ Paragon _ had been due to launch in the middle of Beta shift, but they'd been delayed by three hours. Steve had hardly been on the bridge and it was already time for him to leave.

Intrepid-class starships focused on R&R more than other classes, owing to how long they tended to stay in space without respite, so there was plenty for him to do on his down-time. Today, however, he wanted to explore and meet the crew. He'd met a few of them already—mainly bridge officers, if he was being honest—but he wanted to get to know his ship and his crew. 

He rose from his chair, headed for the turbolift at the aft of the bridge.

“Want me to take the bridge for the rest of the shift, sir?” Carter asked, with a tired smile. She had been working all day, far longer than Steve had, as she’d come aboard early to brief the Operations chiefs who were now scattered around the bridge or in the lower decks sorting out the young ensigns on their first commission. 

He felt bad for even  _ considering _ leaving her alone on the bridge after she had done so much, so he asked Romanoff—the chief of Tactical, and also the most senior bridge crewmember behind Carter—to take control of the bridge and invited Carter to walk with him. She nodded, a little wearily, then followed him into the turbolift. As the doors swept closed behind them, Steve caught a glimpse of Romanoff settling into his chair. He wasn't  _ jealous _ —after all, it was his chair, not hers—but he had hardly sat in it for ten minutes before leaving again.

“You could've stayed, you know. I can tell you didn't want to leave,” Carter said, once Steve had asked for deck five and the turbolift had begun its descent. She’d dropped some of her formal tone now they were away from the bridge. The two of them had been friends for years, had met through Starfleet and paralleled their careers, and now they were serving on the  _ Paragon _ together. There was no animosity between them, in spite of their rank differences, and they got along well. “Danvers isn't the captain,  _ you _ are.”

“I get all shivery when you say that,” Steve said, honestly. He fingered the four pips that were pinned on the thin strip of red material on the collar of his uniform and smiled dimly at the closed turbolift doors. He remembered the day he’d been awarded his fourth gold pip well—it had easily been the best day of his life, even better than today; the day he was becoming a real captain for the first time. He'd served in command positions before, obviously, when he was the same rank as Peggy was now. He served on the  _ Guardian _ for two separate commissions over three years, with some command training in between, and he'd shouldered the night shift more than once. And yet, it still didn't feel real, to have his own ship and his own crew. The joy of it all hadn’t hit him yet. “I still can't believe I'm here.”

“Me either. I can't quite believe Janeway gave  _ Paragon _ access to all the new stuff, either. She must have a soft spot for you,” Carter said. Steve wanted to say  _ Oh, shut it, Peg _ , as he so often did when they were alone, but he moreso wanted to dampen their personal relationship as much as possible while she served as his first officer. He kept his mouth shut instead. 

It  _ was _ a surprise that Admiral Janeway had given  _ Paragon _ the specs for the new warp drive, though; Carter was right about that. She was an old ship, hardly worthy of such a complex outfitting, and quietly Steve wondered if his childhood hero  _ did _ have a soft spot for him. They'd met only twice—firstly when Steve had been given his fourth pip, and secondly when he had attended the Captains’ and Admirals’ ball the past Christmas. He’d also been introduced to Admirals Picard, Riker, and Paris. The whole evening had been life changing. 

The turbolift came to a sweeping halt on deck three, distracting him from his thoughts, and a young ensign stumbled into the lift carrying a long and heavy-looking piece of equipment that Steve didn't recognise. The ensign had a blue strip on his collar, adorned with one golden pip; he was a science ensign. Steve himself was not a science officer, and never had been, so it wasn't unusual that he didn't recognise the equipment.

“Deck six,” the ensign gasped, sounding completely out of breath. He fumbled with the equipment until it was settled in the crook of his elbow like a baby, then he tugged at the strip of colour on his collar until it snapped apart. He let out a sigh of relief, fanning himself with his free hand. 

“Good afternoon, Ensign Parker,” Carter said calmly. She nodded at Parker—Steve quickly committed the young man's name and face to his memory—who turned to stare at the two of them. Steve smiled, knowing that Carter was most likely doing the same at his side. Parker’s jaw dropped. 

“C-Captain, sir? Ma’am?” Parker mumbled. He looked absolutely horrified to be unexpectedly in a turbolift with the two most senior officers on the ship, and he quickly fastened his collar back up before standing to attention. His free hand twitched for a second, as though he wanted to salute, but he held his arm still at his side. “Apologies for my- for my state of dress, sir, ma’am. Won't happen again, sir, ma’am,” and, in a final motion of panic, Parker pushed his sweaty fringe out of his eyes and nudged his glasses up the bridge of his nose before returning almost instantly to attention.

Steve stifled laughter and disguised it as a cough. He remembered when he himself was as jumpy and nervous as Parker was now, and it felt strange to be on the receiving end for a change. “At ease, ensign,” he said, just as calmly as Carter had. Parker shifted into the at-ease position, still stiff as a board, and Steve shook his head fondly. “What’s your commission, Ensign Parker?”

For a moment, Parker just stared at him for a few seconds, wide-eyed, before he managed to form words. “Uh, I- I’m assigned to the astrometrics lab and developmental sciences. Me and Hank- uh, sorry, Ensign McCoy and I- we swap shifts. He does Alpha in astrometrics, I do Alpha in dev, he does Beta in dev, I do Beta in astrometrics, he does Gamma—”

“Yes, yes, we get the gist. Do you prefer developmental sciences or astrometrics?” Carter asked. Parker’s face screwed up in concentration like he'd never been asked a more important question. While he was thinking, the turbolift swept to a halt on deck five and the doors drifted open. Steve stepped around Parker and into the hall beyond the turbolift, but Carter remained behind for a moment, waiting for Parker’s answer. Steve stuck his foot in front of the turbolift door to keep it open so they could continue to talk for a moment without Carter being dragged down to deck six with the ensign.

“Astrometrics, ma’am.” Parker said, finally.

“That's where I worked when I was an ensign. I served on the  _ Tempest _ ,” Carter said, with a warm smile directed at Parker. 

Steve had served there with her, too; in fact, that was the ship they met on. Steve was still going through his four-year cadetship at Starfleet, but a sudden shortage of tactical ensigns meant they commissioned some cadets as a sort of hands-on experience. He had been selected for the commission, as head of his class, and had met the already-qualified Ensign Peggy Carter onboard the  _ Tempest _ . They hit it off—briefly, they even pursued a romantic relationship, and although Steve loved her dearly he knew there was no future there—and remained strong friends throughout the next ten years of their careers. 

Although Carter had gained her first pip two years before Steve, he’d excelled during his time on the  _ Tempest _ and graduated from Starfleet with honours and a special commendation for his service while he was still a cadet. For this reason, Steve suspected, he had been promoted from ensign to lieutenant within a year, bypassing lieutenant junior grade entirely. Carter was a rank behind him the entire time, but she never said a bad word against him for it. And even with all that behind them, it still felt strange that she was now his XO and he her captain, and not the other way around. Carter had always seemed older, and not just because of her actual age. 

“—uncle Ben used to fix that up in drydock. Great ship,” Parker shot back, and Steve realised that he had missed half the conversation, lost in his own thoughts. 

Parker had relaxed a little since Carter had smiled at him and talked to him like he was a normal person, but he still looked absolutely terrified to be speaking to her. Steve called her away, removed his foot from the turbolift door, and Parker’s pink face disappeared behind it as it drifted closed again. He smiled at the closed door, then turned on his heel and headed down the deck five main corridor with Carter in tow.


	3. Gamma Shift (Meeting The Crew)

Steve spent the rest of Gamma shift exploring the ship and meeting the crew, as he intended to. He adored routine, and always used the regulated shifts as a guideline for his day and night. His day happened in two shifts; his work shift, whichever might that may be, followed directly by a respite shift. Regardless of how tired he was following his work shift, he always stuck out the next eight hours doing whatever he needed to do, whether that was extra work, holodeck time, reading, showering… anything. At the end of the respite shift, he would sleep for eight hours, and this was his sleep shift. Following this, he would wake up and immediately start his work shift, thus starting the cycle again.

In emergencies, of course, the routine didn't always quite work out, but when the ship was running normally and there were no catastrophes happening, the routine worked just fine. It fitted Steve well, and he liked it. At the moment, Alpha shift was his sleep shift, Beta shift was his work shift, and Gamma shift was his respite shift. He liked this pattern of shifts best, as it was the one that lined up most with a normal day back on Earth. 

This Gamma shift was devoted to meeting crewmembers, as planned, and by the time 0000 rolled around and it was time to retire to his quarters, Steve had built up a strong list of crewmembers onboard his ship. Of course, some of the crew were asleep or enjoying their free time, so he didn't get to meet everyone. But he did meet  _ some _ ...

On deck five, he met four crewmembers. In the sickbay, he introduced himself to Lieutenant Claire Temple. She was the nurse, but, according to her, she was essentially the doctor as Dr Banner (a decorated commander and their chief medical officer) spent half of his time down in the science labs and left her to the more minor medical tasks like checkups, vaccinations, and the odd case of space sickness. She had worked with Dr Banner for years, and was familiar with his tendency to stray. 

In the office beside the sickbay, Wanda Maximoff, the ship’s counsellor, gave Steve a warm greeting and offered him a cup of iced tea. Maximoff was Haliian and an empath, and she very politely asked if she could relieve Steve of some of his stress. He declined, but promised to return for a talk sometime in the future.

Steve also met Ensign America Chavez, who was fixing a fault in one of the two transporter pads that resided on deck five. She was an ops ensign, not an engineer, she explained, but she was so used to fixing the pads herself back on Earth that she preferred to sort the problem herself rather than wait for an engineer. An engineer did eventually show up, while she and Steve were striking up a conversation about their favourite Romulan meals, and Steve was introduced to Lieutenant James Rhodes. 

On deck six, Steve once again ran into Parker. This time, he wasn't alone. He was with Ensign Wade Wilson, a tactical ensign who Steve had seen on the bridge earlier that day, and a Vulcan science ensign who only went by the name Vision. Vision was obviously with Parker as they both worked in science, and it wasn't unusual for them to be in a lab at the same time, but there was no explanation as to why Wilson was down there. 

“I like hanging out with Petey here whenever I’m off duty,” Wilson answered, when Steve asked why he was in a science lab when he worked tactical. When Wilson wrapped his arm around Parker’s shoulders and leaned heavily on him he looked perfectly at ease, not stiff and formal like Parker did in front of Steve. Wilson was grinning cockily as he did it, even as Parker began to blush, clearly embarrassed. Vision was silent throughout the encounter, but he still said his farewells as Steve left the lab. 

On deck seven, Steve met Ensign Richard Reed. Reed was in the physics lab, working with a machine that manipulated subatomic particles, and he greeted Steve briefly before asking him to leave on account of the  _ sterile atmosphere  _ in the lab that Steve had apparently disrupted. 

On deck eight, Steve found Ensign Hank McCoy, who was in the astrophysics lab just as Parker had said in the turbolift. When Steve walked into astrophysics he squeaked and fell out of his chair. McCoy was a Talaxian. A colony of Talaxians had only recently come to Earth, after travelling across the shared edge between the Delta and Alpha quadrants to reach Starfleet’s home base, and their youngest members had just begun to graduate from Starfleet’s cadet programme. There were still some quite strong prejudices around Talaxians—generally, the idea that they were all thieves and swindlers, similar to the prejudices around Ferengi—so Steve had plucked eight or so Talaxians right out of the Academy and added them to his crew, as he knew some of them probably wouldn't be commissioned by other captains just yet. McCoy was one of them, and he seemed to be performing admirably. 

On the same deck, Steve found Lt. Commander Charles Xavier, the chief science officer, asleep at his desk in his private office. He wasn't on shift and wasn't doing anything wrong, but Steve still nudged him awake and suggested he return to his quarters to sleep. Xavier nodded, yawned, then guided his wheelchair out of the office, quietly giving his thanks. He was one of the youngest officers on board, at only twenty four, but he'd had an accident aboard a mining vessel that left him unable to walk and confined to a wheelchair. Even Starfleet’s best surgeons couldn't repair the catastrophic damage to his spine, but Xavier hadn't let that stop him and he'd progressed to chief science officer faster than anyone could've expected. 

Steve went to deck eleven next, where he found the chief engineering officer, Lieutenant Tony Stark, sat in his private office having a conversation with Dr Banner. They both shared a common interest in the sciences, even though neither of them had qualified specifically in science—instead, Stark had chosen engineering and Banner had chosen medicine—but they were renowned for coming up with the best ideas when they put their heads together. Steve gave them a brief greeting, introduced himself, then left them alone. 

Also on deck eleven, he met a small group of ensigns in main engineering that called themselves the Howling Commandos. They gave no explanation for the nickname, just smirked at one another when Steve asked where the name had come from. They took Steve on a quick tour around engineering, including the upper level, talking to him all the while. By the time he stepped out into the corridor again, he felt like he'd aged by about ten years, just from being around such lively, juvenile ensigns. A couple of them looked older than Steve did, but he felt older than all of them put together.

He couldn't think of anywhere else where crewmembers might be at this late hour, so he made his way to the aft lounge on the same deck. It was locked up—it really was quite late, so that wasn't unusual—but he could hear shouting inside. It was only a level four security lock on the door, ensigns and above, so he bypassed it and walked into the lounge. Surprisingly, he found several crewmembers in there, running around, all of them screeching with delight.

“Pass it! Pass the ball, Trish! Trish! Over his head!”

“I might be blind, but I'm not  _ deaf _ , Gwen!”

“How come you missed the ball then?”

“Shut it, Jones. Aren't you supposed to be the impartial—” there was a loud thud and a shout of pain. “Hey, that's not fair!”

“Impartial judge rules: that was totally fair, and Clint is a wuss! Point to security!”

All of the tables and chairs had been unfastened from the floor and pushed to the sides of the lounge, under the massive viewing windows that spanned the aft wall. On top of the tables, there was a female crewmember with black hair sat in casual clothes, holding a pad and watching the carnage take place in the middle of the lounge. There were four people—two men and two women—running around in their exercise clothes, a white ball flying between them. The men were wearing yellow strips of material around their waists, and the women red.

It was some sort of game, obviously, but not one Steve had ever played. And he'd never seen a game played in the aft lounge before. It wasn’t against the  _ rules _ ; the lounge was a place for R&R, no matter what form that came in. Granted, usually physical games were played on the holodeck or in one of the gyms, and the lounge was usually used for eating, drinking and playing  _ board _ games, but it hadn’t ever been said that crewmembers couldn't play a game in the lounge when they were off-duty. 

He cleared his throat and asked: “What are you doing?”

All four of the active crewmembers looked up from their game, completely distracted, and instantly crashed into one another. Both of the women held their own and remained standing, but the two men tumbled to the ground. The woman who was sat on the tables keeping score immediately jumped down from the tabletop and came to stand beside the downed players. The two men stood up quickly and brushed themselves down. 

“Captain Rogers?” this woman asked, a surprised expression on her face. “What’re you doing here?”

“Jess!” one of the other women hissed, elbowing her hard in the side. The first woman, Jess, started to loudly complain but quickly held her tongue when the second woman glared at her. This woman cleared her throat and brushed her hair out of her eyes. Now, she addressed Steve: “Sorry you had to see that, sir. We were playing football.”

“We’re not really sure how to play it,” one of the men butted in, the one wearing a red visor over his eyes. “But we’ve guessed as well as we can from old footage in the files, and we think we’ve got it down. It's from the 20th century. It used to be called soccer or something, too. We don't really get it.”

“Oh?” Steve said.

The last man, the one who hadn't spoken yet, grinned and piped up excitedly. “Yeah! We usually play three-a-side with the computer keeping score, but Wade isn't here, so—”

“Ensign Wilson?” Steve asked. Everything clicked suddenly into place. Jess had given a point to the women, to  _ security _ , and Wade—a tactical ensign—was on the opposite team with the other men. It was a game between the security ensigns and the tactical ensigns. And then Steve couldn't help himself; he started to smile, then asked whether his observations were correct. 

The last man grinned even more broadly. “Yeah, it is! We used to play at drydock, but this is our first game on an actual ship in flight. Tactical is me, uh, Ensign Barton—” he gestured at himself, “—Ensign Murdock—” he indicated the man with the visor, “—and usually Ensign Wilson,” he waved his arm vaguely in the air. 

“And security is me, Ensign Stacy—” the third woman said, gesturing at herself as Barton had, “—Ensign Walker—” she indicated the second woman, “—and Ensign Jones,” she indicated the first woman, “Tactical is one short today, so we  _ should _ win by default, but Matt’s a real stickler for the rules.” 

“And we’re  _ still _ winning, even with our biased judge,” Murdock muttered, pointing at Jones. 

“Why don't you just use the computer to judge instead?” Steve wondered aloud.

“Then I'd be left out!” Jones piped up, a little angrily. She was shorter and smaller than the rest of the ensigns, but apparently that didn’t bother her much. “That's not fair!”

“Can't you get another tactical ensign to play?”

Barton snorted loudly. “They're all on shift or asleep. Plus, there's a reason this is only three-a-side. People don't like to play with us; they say we’re too rough. Wade’ll join us next week, he's just been commissioned with his  _ boyfriend _ for the first time so he's all excited and—”

He suddenly fell silent as Stacy and Walker had both elbowed him in the side. Steve raised an eyebrow. Romantic relationships between crewmembers serving on the same commission were to be discouraged at all costs, in case it distracted the crew from their work or caused problems when one side of the relationship was in danger, as so often happened aboard starships. The rules were a  _ little _ slacker on long missions such as the  _ Paragon _ ’s three-year one, but they were still on their very first day, and already Steve’s crew had apparently begun disregarding the rules. It was quite disheartening. 

“His boyfriend?” Steve asked, some of the joy from seeing his crew have fun lost. “Is he in a relationship with another member of the crew?”

“Er, it's not—”

“It's not like that, sir—”

“They're not  _ together _ , they're just, um—”

Steve held up his hands and they fell silent. This was a turning point, he felt. If he squashed this relationship before their voyage had even truly begun, it would set the tone for the rest of their mission. Steve would be known as a rule stickler, something he did not want to be known as when he had to spend another three years with the crew. Alternately, if he let the relationship slide, he could be known as the captain who broke the rules four hours out of drydock on his first commission. And if that got back to  _ Starfleet _ … 

He wasn’t going to do anything. Most of his crew were young and away from home for the first time, on an extraordinarily long mission; possibly the longest any of them would ever go on. So long as their relationships didn't interfere with how well they worked, who was Steve to force them to keep their feelings on lockdown? He could turn a blind eye, that was all. There was no rule-breaking taking place if Steve didn't  _ see _ it happening.

“So, how do you play football?” Steve asked, finally. He unfastened his uniform and stripped down to his dress pants and undershirt. All five of the ensigns in front of him exchanged suspicious, surprised looks. “Well, do you want a tactical officer to fill in for Ensign Wilson or not?”

The ensigns started grinning immediately, then launched into an explanation of the rules of football. It seemed a little odd—for a game with  _ foot _ in the title, there was an awful lot of throwing involved—but Steve was a quick learner and picked it up fairly easily. The lounge was big enough to hold all six of them, and the computer happily chirped out scores for the next two hours. In the end, the security team won, and the three women celebrated their victory by replicating some strong Romulan alcohol and distributing it amongst themselves. Barton looked like someone had kicked him in the face, but he soon cheered up when Steve replicated some bottles of honeyed fruit juices for the tactical team to share. 

Steve stayed with them for a good while longer, until the computer announced that Alpha shift was starting. He gave his thanks and  _ goodnight _ s to the ensigns—all of whom he now considered friends, not just crewmen—then retired to his quarters on deck three. He passed a sleepy-looking Lieutenant Commander Kamala Khan, their chief ops officer, who was leaving her own quarters and heading for the turbolift, presumably to head up to deck one and start her shift on the bridge. She waved tiredly at him as they passed in the corridor, then yawned and disappeared behind the turbolift doors. 

Khan had looked like she was going to fall back asleep at any moment, and Steve felt much the same. He’d hardly been inside his quarters for ten seconds before he collapsed on his bed, still fully clothed and vaguely sweaty from the football game. Unsurprisingly, he fell asleep almost immediately. 

**Author's Note:**

> — I'll add pairings (and warnings) as we go on, but for now it's mostly background pairings & past pairings, and this could be read by an eight year old with little worry tbh
> 
> — If you couldn't tell, I was raised on Voyager. I'm familiar with The Original Series and The Next Generation too, but VOY is where my love lies. Most of my Star Trek knowledge comes from there, so this will definitely read like a Voyager fanfic... also, I lowkey owe my life to this resource, which is worth a read even if you're not planning on writing a vaguely accurate Star Trek fanfic anytime soon: http://techspecs.acalltoduty.com/intrepid.html
> 
> Here's a FULL list of characters, their positions aboard the ship, and their ranks, including both those characters that have already appeared and those that will appear in the future (I'll tag each character as and when they appear & have a speaking role):
> 
> Captain: Steve Rogers (Captain)  
> First officer: Peggy Carter (Commander)  
> Chief OPS: Kamala Khan (Lieutenant Commander)  
> Chief TAC: Natasha Romanoff (Commander)  
> Chief SEC: Luke Cage (Lieutenant)  
> Chief HELM: Carol Danvers (Lieutenant Commander)  
> Chief ENG: Tony Stark (Lieutenant Junior Grade)  
> Chief MED: Bruce Banner (Commander)  
> Chief SCI: Charles Xavier (Lieutenant)  
> Operations: America Chavez (Ensign)  
> Tactical: Clint Barton (Lieutenant Junior Grade), Matt Murdock (Ensign), Wade Wilson (Ensign)  
> Security: Gwen Stacy (Lieutenant), Jessica Jones (Ensign), Trish Walker (Ensign)  
> Helm: Sam Wilson (Lieutenant), Peter Quill (Ensign), Pietro Maximoff (Ensign)  
> Engineering: Howling Commandos (all Ensigns), Scott Lang (Ensign)  
> Medical: Claire Temple (Lieutenant Junior Grade)  
> Science: Vision (Ensign), Peter Parker (Ensign), Hank McCoy (Ensign), Richard Reed (Ensign)  
> Chef: Edwin Jarvis (no rank)  
> Counselor: Wanda Maximoff (Lieutenant)  
> Other: Bucky Barnes (no rank)


End file.
